User blog:DB Baxter/Nightloom: Part III - The Madman
Natilyn was lead to yet another large building that stood at the back of the prison complex. It sported no windows, and was made entirely of stone and ebony. The door was guarded by two more Thalmor guards, armed with greatswords. She felt a nudge from behind. “Move it, Prisoner,” The guard snarled. She took a breath, and stepped into the Maximum Security building. The room was borderline pitch black, with the only available light source being a few half-melted candles that hung in each cell. Speaking of the cells, there was two levels of them on each side, and they were much smaller than any she had ever been in. They looked to be incapable of fitting even 4 people into a single one, and contained nothing besides a floor of stone. She was forced down the hallway but eventually came to a stop at a cell that sat directly on the center of the first level. The guard forced open the iron bars and shoved the bosmer into the cold square, not even bothering to unbind her before he re-shut it and left without saying a word. As the door shut, an eerie silence swept over the place. One that made her squirm uncomfortably in the cold darkness of her tiny cell. That healer said this place had been filled with crazies, right? She didn’t see any as she walked past the cells. All of them were empty. Meyhaps the old man was bluffing? Maybe there weren’t that many. Or, were they all above her? Did she have another raving lunatic sitting right above her right now? Her questions to where the loonies were located was finally answered when she heard that hideous cackle erupting from the cell directly across from her that sent a shiver down her spine. “And so, Kaelmun finds another to entertain!” He laughed. “So, with whom am I sharing this lovely little place now?” Natilyn wasn’t sure how she could respond to that. “Who wants to know?” She responded, trying to hide her timidness behind a tone of zeal and toughness. The man had another laugh. “Oh, of course! Where are my manners? Well, I’m-“ His sentence came to a halt when another Altmer guard came by and banged on the bars to shut up the loon. “Keep your mouth shut!” He ordered. The altmer carried a torch, which finally gave her a warm light source. It gave her a bit of comfort for a moment before the guard disappeared once again down the narrow hallway of empty cells, taking the torch with him. The crazy across from her didn’t speak for a while, and the building remained eerily silent and eerily dark for an equal amount of time, until she heard the ferocious grind of the iron door opening once again. “All guards, report to the mess hall!” One of the unseen altmers boomed, his voice echoing through the hollowed cells. This was followed by some small, inaudible talk between the guards and their boots shuffling towards the door. It shut once more, and now it was just her. Her and that loon. Speaking of him, as soon as the guards shut the door, she was greeted by a small, contained fire that came from the cell across from her. She turned her head, to see that the loon had created that small fire in the palm of his hand. The small light revealed that he was a Dark elf with mangled black hair and unkept facial hair. He wore a hideous grin and a pair of bloodshot eyes. “Goriyn Mortis,” He beamed, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “That’s the name. Now, how bout yours?” She scooted a bit backwards, which meant she was pretty much backed up against the wall. On top of the sadistic grin and his eyes that spelt out crazy in capital letters, the man had fire in his possession. If that man snapped and slung that fire over here, she’d be cooked in seconds. He’d probably eat the charred flesh, too. Goriyn shook his head and chuckled. “Intimidated, aren’t ya? Not sure how to approach a man like me?” He grinned, stepping forward to the bars and pressing his mug up against the grid. “Well, don’t be afraid. I’m just a humble dark elf with a good sense of humor.” If she could’ve scooted back through the walls, she would’ve. She was dead. She was dead, and she knew it to. This man wasn’t gonna let her leave this place alive, was he? Gods, she didn’t want to die. Not here. Not like this. In the cramped cells of some Thalmor prisons at the hands of some crazed killer! The man leaned off the bars, still keeping that sadistic smile on his face. “You’re afraid of dying here, aren’t you?” He smiled. “And you’re afraid I’m going to be the one to do the deed, right?” She didn’t answer. She just kept to the back of the cell, staring. Goriyn continued to grin. “Don’t fear, wood elf. By this point, I would’ve burnt you to a crisp if I really wanted to,” he laughed. “Most of the average men who get sent this way are boring. They just, ramble on and on and on about incoherent nonsense! Ah, but not you. You’re not like the other crazies, are you? You still have at least some sort of a functioning brain in your head. You still have some story to you.” He stepped up to the bar once more. “So… what is that story?” The tension eased off of her just a bit, but not by much. She was no longer scrunched up against the wall, but the atmosphere that usually came with being locked in a small room with some psycho grinning ear to ear with fire in his hands was definitely present. “I… I’m a thief,” She admitted. “I stole from a guy, I got caught, and they sent me here.” The dark elf howled in laughter. “Oh, come now! There’s more to it than that! One doesn’t steal from some poor sod on the street and end up in the most secure spot in the most secure prison in all of Tamriel for it!” “Um…” She started, not sure if she wanted to confide in this lunatic her actions. But if she didn’t, he’d grow ‘bored’, wouldn’t he? And now she knew what happened when he was bored with someone… “I broke into Loreiuth’s estate,” She sighed. “Truly?” He asked, his bloodshot eyes widening in surprise. It wasn’t soon, though, before he busted out into another howl of soul-piercing laughter. “Oh my… you… you…” He huffed, trying to pull himself together. “You thought robbing the Loreiuth Mansion was a good idea?!” He cackled. “Oh gods... Whoooo-hohoh… now that’s true insanity!” “The plan was perfect,” She defended. “I had it all figured out! And I was ‘this’ close to pulling it off.” She looked down and sighed. “Then that Argonian… that lying, two-faced argonian…” “Sold you out to the guards, didn’t he?” He grinned. She replied with a simple nod. “Ah, of course. Argonians are notorious for selling out and running with their tails in between their legs... pun intended,” “But… Han-Dar… Gods, I’ve known him forever…” She sulked, before she slammed her hand on the ground in frustration. How could Han-Dar have done this to her? They’d been stealing from the noble bastards since she was 17. And now, he stabs her in the back. “Don’t dwell on it too much,” The dunmer said. His voice sounded sympathetic, but he still wore that sadistic smile. It was like it was burned into his face. “A few years from now, you’ll be laughing about it,” “If I make it a few more years,” She sighed. “Oh, you will! Kaelmun won’t let you die!” He cackled. “See, the warden see’s death as an escape. And gods know he won’t let you escape. You could do anything in this joint and he won’t kill you. Just horribly maim you and wish he’d kill you.” “Well, that’s so much better!” She threw her hands up, voice dripping with sarcasm. There was a long pause in the conversation, each person contemplating what to say next. “You never told me what you did to get in here,” The dunmer finally said. “Yeah I did. Broke into the house, got arrested.” “That’s not the end of it,” He folded his arms. “What happened after that?” She shrugged. “I, erm… may have disarmed the captain and sliced Loreiuth’s gut open..” “Ha!” He beamed. “Now that’s funny! So that’s what got you stuck in Maximum Security?” “No… The next 25 guards I killed probably got me stuck in here,” Goriyn arched an eyebrow. “That…. That’s BLOODY BRILLIANT!” He cried out, falling back onto the floor and erupting into a hideous barrage of laughs that made her cringe. “I-I’m sorry!” He snickered, wiping away a tear. “But that’s just fantastic! 25 guards! Biting the dust!” “It ain’t that funny,” She spat out. “Yes it is!” He said, standing up and wiping the grime off his rags. “You know, I kinda like you.” “I’m flattered.” “Yeah… I think you’re the best loon that the Warden has sent my way!” This comment made her hop up to her feet and glare at Goriyn through her own set of rusted bars. “Let’s get something straight,” She hissed. “I am not a loon. I’m not crazy. I’m not insane. I’m not… not like you.” Goriyn chuckled and shook his head. “I’d beg to differ, miss. Let’s see, you attempted to break into the most secure mansion in all of Tamriel. You cut open a nobleman’s stomach. You murder 25 guards in some horribly thought out plan of escape… sounds pretty crazy to me, hon.” The girl kicked the bars in frustration. Sadly, she thought, he did have a point. 25 men. Dead. That’s mass murder. And she’d done the deed. Was she insane? Was she a homicidal maniac like the creep in front of her? Or was the atmosphere of Nightloom just picking her apart? Just then, she could hear the sound of what seemed to be a mission bell from outside the building. “The hell’s that?” She asked, just as the guards re-opened the iron door and began filing in. “Arena time,” Goriyn said smugly. Category:Blog posts